


Absent Friends

by tielan



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 03:41:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29753520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tielan/pseuds/tielan
Summary: Maybe it’s the missing faces, lost in the battle against Nero – whole classes of officers, enlisted, cadets dead, spaceflot when they arrived at the engagement zone and discovered themselves already under fire.
Relationships: background Spock/Nyota Uhura
Comments: 7
Kudos: 35
Collections: Froday Flash Fiction Fandom Battle





	Absent Friends

The bar in Iowa feels strangely empty.

It’s not, of course; there are nearly a hundred officers and enlisted personnel there, talking, drinking, socialising.

Maybe it’s the missing faces, lost in the battle against Nero – whole classes of officers, enlisted, cadets dead, spaceflot when they arrived at the engagement zone and discovered themselves already under fire.

Nyota didn’t miss the way the proprietor twitched as the crew of the _Enterprise_ walked in, the man’s eyes resting on Kirk as he swaggered through the crowds and up to the bar. But he can’t announce that his bar isn’t serving Starfleet’s newest captain and the man credited with leading the ridiculous and impossible plan that saved Earth – not when the bulk of his customers are Starfleet’s or employed by. 

“I don’t even want to _think_ about what’s on the floor,” McCoy mutters grimly when they’re seated at a table. Some starry-eyed cadets gave way before Kirk’s charm and vacated their seats for the _Enterprise_ captain and companions. “Our boots will need decontamination when we get out. At the least!”

Sahara Page of Engineering coughs. “I think a bit more than the captain’s boots will need decontamination...”

Nyota doesn’t even need to look over at the bar to know the man is leaning against the bar buying a drink and chatting to a woman. At least one. Possibly two. It also might be a man – Kirk isn’t picky about gender although he does seem to prefer women – but any way it goes tonight, Kirk is being charming and people are charmed.

At least he’s out of the mood he was in when he returned to quarters earlier. One part sulky teenager, one part closed-up trauma survivor, one part attempting-to-be-insouciant male, all parts Kirk. He argued with Spock, challenged Sulu to a racing simulator, grumped at McCoy, and offered to go one-on-one with Uhura in a sparring match.

She thought about giving him the fight he wanted – the physical outlay of energy that he didn’t get with Spock – but decided sending him off with a flea in his ear would push him in a direction more suited to his style. Two hours later, he sauntered back into quarters that had been assigned to the Bridge and Senior Engineering crew smelling faintly of perfume, and flung himself down on the couch, catching Nyota’s eye with a smirk that said she’d read him rightly.

“Where’s Spock tonight?”

“At a meeting with the Vulcan remnants,” Nyota tells McCoy. “He’ll be by when they’re finished.”

“I’m kind of surprised he’s staying with Starfleet.” Page comments, checking her communicator like she expects to find a message there. “I would have thought the Vulcans would need all their people – even the half-human ones.”

Nyota doesn’t tell the others of Spock’s ‘alternate’ – the elderly man who found Kirk on Delta Vega and who chose to remain with the Vulcans as they began their new colony, while advising Spock to remain with Starfleet.

Frankly, she was more than a little surprised that Spock even shared the information with her, but it seems his alternate advised Spock to tell Nyota given that they were in a relationship.  _He said it would be a wise move, even if not perhaps a logical one._

She wonders what else the elder Spock said to her lover, but a communications officer should know both diplomacy and tact as well as languages and culture, and so she’s held her curiosity back. Perhaps one day she’ll get to ask; perhaps not.

“Maybe he’s got a death wish,” McCoy comments, referring to Spock’s decision to remain with Starfleet. “Frankly, we’re all likely to end up dead.”

“You are always so cheerful,” says Chekov. “Even gloomier than Russian Academy.”

“Hey, you want cheerful and optimistic, you talk to Jim. And don’t talk to me about bedside manner. My patients get better just the same rate as anyone else’s!”

“Yeah, but they whine at twice the rate.” Kirk sets the tray down beside McCoy, the liquid level in the various glasses wobbling according to their viscosity. "So, that'll be a Cardassian gargleblaster for Uhura - don't know how you stand those things. Two Blue Lightnings for Bones, a Sugar-and-Spice for Page, an orange juice for Chekov.”

The young Russian blond stares morosely at the orange liquid. "Could you not have at least slipped some vodka in?"

"Sorry, Chekov. Don't know how they do things in Russia, but this is America - land of the free, home of the ridiculous drinking age. Bones, if I have to drag you home after this--"

“If you have to drag me home after two Blue Lightnings, then you might as well dump me in the street and leave me to die.” McCoy growls and slides one of the drinks towards Chekov. “And don’t complain about the colour.”

A roll of the eyes and a huff, and the kid takes the drink and mutters something about not looking at the teeth of a gifted horse, which Nyota imagines is the Russian version of ‘ _Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth_ ’.

“What’re you drinking?” Page asks. “Is that beer?”

“Local brew.” Kirk takes a mouthful and makes a face. “Tastes just like Iowa.”

“If you dislike it so much, why’d you order it?”

“Because it tastes just like Iowa.”

The smile is faint and mocking and very much the Jim Kirk that Nyota has come to know over the last few months. The charmer covers a deep cynicism which is layered over a man who still cannot quite give up on hope. And maybe that complexity is what makes him the leader that she and the rest of the Enterprise’s crew are willing to follow.

He lifts the glass into the middle of the table. “To absent friends and the Enterprise.”

One by one they lift their glasses to touch his, thinking of people no longer here, of Academy friends dead and injured, of a Federation’s worth of space waiting to be explored and discovered and developed – once they get back into space again.

_To absent friends and the Enterprise._

They drink.


End file.
